


meet me on the edge (of a vortex)

by chryos



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Bad Flirting, Boys Kissing, Like one kiss, M/M, Mild Language, Pining, also like renhyuck but you have to use a magnifying glass, basically space! markhei, it's v soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-12-30 15:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chryos/pseuds/chryos
Summary: Intergalactic flight training gone wrong, Solmiiran space cadet Mark finds himself on an abandoned lunar colony, thousands of light-years away from home.





	meet me on the edge (of a vortex)

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i do not own these characters, nor am i an expert on space technology/astronomy, so no, i’m 87% sure europa does  
> not have purple sand, tho that’d be neat ngl
> 
> also! this is unbeta’d, so pls pls point out any mistakes if there are!! i’d very much appreciate it :)

**PART I. VENTURE**

Two hours away from Solmiir’s atmosphere and the giddy feeling still hadn’t shaken off Mark’s chest yet.

Space had never looked so beautiful to him, partly due to the fact that this time, it wasn’t a simulation. In the corner of his eye, his classmates whizzed passed him, but Mark let himself take in the glistening stars in the distance, tiny and sparkling. Reds and oranges of planets, warm and glowing, and their moons, blues and silvers surrounding them like jewels of a princess. Hell, even the number of asteroids scattered over their route wasn’t bothering him more than usual (they were the sole reason he never got full scores on simulator exams).

It was hard to believe it was his first time flying, _actually_ flying, after so many years training at the Academy. His class was lucky enough to have been given access to the school-issued carjets. Soon enough, he’d finally get his intergalactic pilots license, and Mark would be free from the confines of authoritarian schedules and terrible cafeteria food. It was a little of a reach, but he hoped he could scrape enough money to finally buy a ship, form a close crew, and venture off to whatever the universe had in store for him…

“ _Cadets, shift into lane forty-nine. Careful not to get sucked into Jexes’s atmosphere,_ ” Commander Seo muttered into the comms. Mark startled at the voice of his instructor ringing through his control panel. Ahead of him, carjets zoomed past Mark’s carjet left and right into a sharp curve.

“Shit,” he mumbled, realizing he was veering a little on the left. He had been daydreaming far too long. Mark hurriedly went for the gear-shift, barely registering Commander Seo’s words.

More carjets flew past him in a silver flurry, the sound of the engines sending a flare of anxiety throughout his body. 

“Shit, shit, shit–” Mark scrambled to follow the carjets, gaining a clumsy momentum. He had become the last jet in the crowd, trailing far behind. It was risky, but he put more pressure on the engine, more than he should’ve, a little more and he would be right on track–

“ _Cadets, prepare to enter the vortex._ ”

“The _what_ ?!” Mark cried out. He didn’t remember a _vortex_ being on the GPS route. His controls began to flash red, a large warning sign blaring over his holo-screen. “ _Warning_ ,” the system echoed, _“you are off-route. Please resume the correct course…  Warning, you are off-route…”_

“Very helpful,” the cadet shouted over the system. He couldn’t concentrate with the extra lights and sounds and all, _Tzal_! Panic filled his chest as he noticed he was getting further and further from his class, and upon seeing the vortex, his heart dropped to his stomach.

It was large, larger than anything he could have imagined for a tunnel. In class, the instructors and screens had made it seem so small, but no– it was massive. Massive and bright, so immensely bright that the blue-white light of it had dulled the panicky reds of his system and screens. Something in him twisted as if trying to lurch out of his throat.

 _Oh, no._ This was bad. Really, really bad.

He remembered learning that vortexes were, while efficient in traveling through space for their space-time anomalies, were also extremely powerful in that they could possibly kill you. Which was why it was crucial to stay strictly on-route at all times. Which Mark was not.

Suddenly, Commander Seo’s strained voice, muffled by the system, came on: “ _Cadet Eight-Two, can you hear me? What the hell is going on_?”

Commander Seo! Oh, Mark felt like crying as the jet was only seconds away from entering the vortex. He pressed the button, shakily, “Commander Seo! Please help me! Code Red, Code Red!”

“ _Kid, calm down,_ ” although the commander himself didn’t sound very calm either _,_ “ _look, I need you to stop as soon as possible. You_ cannot _enter the vortex_ . _Do you hear me? We’ll find some other way–”_

The brakes worked, alright. His foot slammed against it once more. The engines stuttered shut, but the energy coming from the vortex was pulling him in closer and closer.

“The system works but– it’s too late! It’s pulling me in!” Mark let out a sob, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what to do, _please_ –”

There was no response, only the crackle of radio noise. He had reached the entrance, the black of space vanished from his eyes. The sound was too much, everything was too much, blinded by the light glaring into the glass, bright streaks washing away his vision. Mark shut his eyes, praying, _praying_ that somehow he wouldn’t die, _mi Qres_ –

There was white. And then there was nothing.

 

**PART II. OUTLAND**

He didn’t remember when he awoke, but at some point, he did. He fell in and out of consciousness, just thinking about how much everything had hurt, and waiting for the pain to ebb away. It didn’t.

Later, Mark would be told he had been unconscious for three days after he was found and taken out of his carjet. Mark hadn’t remembered any of it, of course, but there were things he had felt, though he might’ve not been able to comprehend.

First, the taste of blood, hot and metallic on his dry mouth. Black. Then, the sound of someone knocking on the door, faint and far away. Black. Dirt and dust caked over his eyelids, so much that he couldn’t lift them, but he felt the sun on his face. Black. A voice, a voice he never heard before, washing away the agony in his body. Black.

When he finally could open his eyes, numbed and dosed, he was alone, on a bed. The room he was in was small, but not claustrophobic. It was filled with natural sunlight, in the middle of the day, but the brightness wasn’t unbearable. There was a shut window to the side, but he felt air circulate in and out of the room with the door slightly propped open. If he listened well enough, Mark would be able to hear the wind hushing outside and the footsteps padding below his room.

His mouth tasted like sandpaper, his throat itching. He needed water.

On eggshells, he lifted himself up and hissed. His ribs hurt and his limbs were aching with disuse. When he pulled up his shirt (he had been taken out of his uniform, and given someone’s pajamas– they were a little big on him, but soft and clean), there were purples and browns of wounds and bruises. Mark blanched at the sight. Whoever did the stitches was definitely inexperienced, but the work was done and that’s all that mattered.

He got up, but before he could walk out of the room, he heard someone coming. Mark stopped at the sound of footsteps getting louder, and hid behind the door. The footsteps paused, and suddenly, it was silent. Mark swallowed. What was he getting so scared for? Whoever saved him and took care of him couldn’t be dangerous, so there was no reason to hide. But still, they were stranger, the other part of him argued.

“You can come out now, you know.”

Mark startled. The voice was slightly husky, albeit with a teasing lilt. Embarrassed, he peeked from behind the door, and slowly shifted away from his hiding spot.

He was tall, about Mark’s age, and he was quite… handsome. Light brown hair (oddly charming for how messy it was), strong brows, large features, and large in his presence. Sort of... large in general. Honestly, the boy appeared sort of intimidating when he raised an eyebrow at Mark, who couldn’t help but flush from the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

“Sorry,” Mark coughed out, feeling meek, “I, um–”

There were so many questions to ask, he didn’t know where to start. Somehow, the boy understood, and grinned, pearly whites and _wow_ , his smile was large, too. As soon as the grin took over his face, he seemed more like a puppy.

“I’m Lucas,” he extended a hand, which Mark hesitantly took.

“Um,” Mark said eloquently. “Mark.”

“You crashed three days ago, but I don’t think you remember much of it.” Then, Lucas’s eyes grew wide– “shit, do you even remember anything? Hold on, sit down–”

“No, no!” If Mark’s face couldn’t get any redder, it did anyway when Lucas looked slightly taken aback. “I– I’m fine. I remember everything, at least before the crash– but, am I really alive?”

Lucas barked out a laugh. He was sort of loud. Mark didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Yes, you are, thanks to the courtesy of well, me–” Lucas smirked, exaggeratedly flicking imaginary dust off his shoulder. Mark fought the urge to roll his eyes, but he really was grateful. The other boy rubbed the back of his neck, “how about we sit down first though, yeah? You look like you need a cup of… something.”

Mark let out a silent chuckle, “I really look that bad, huh.”

“Well,” Lucas led him downstairs. “I was worried. You couldn’t chew while you were unconscious so I had to make sure everything you ate was liquids only. Luckily you could swallow. Could’ve been worse. But now you really need to eat something solid.”

The house was small but comfy and somewhat gave a nostalgic aura throughout. It had been up for more than a couple of years, with the outdated wallpaper and empty rooms. It seemed to him that they were the only ones in the house, though the rooms had left some form of life in them. He didn’t mean to be nosy, but Mark caught a glimpse of all sorts of personal objects: toys, vases, paper books (it was the first time seeing them physically, as paper books were never used at the Academy), all sorts of things that gave the impression they had been loved by someone at some point. He didn’t know why it struck him as it did.

Another thing he found odd was the amount of framed paintings in the home. They were physical, too, and full of wondrous views he only ever saw in movies or simulators. They were two-dimensional, though, which Mark had a hard time understanding why someone would want that.

Lucas fixed him up some soup and bread, a simple meal. But it tasted delicious, mostly because Mark was starving– it really felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. When he apologized for his stomach grumbling, Lucas let out another one of his boisterous laughs and told him it was all good.

“So,” Lucas started as Mark was finishing the last of his broth. It warmed up his body well, Mark now feeling more alert. “What happened to you? How did you crash?”

Mark told him everything. At first, he hesitated. Technically, the other boy was still a stranger, but the words poured out easily, and Lucas didn’t ask questions either, intently listening to him.

“Vortexes really are dangerous,” Lucas concluded with a frown. “I couldn’t have imagined what it was like for you, but that sounds crazy.”

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, “it was scary, more like.”

Lucas laughed again, taking his bowl to put it in the dishwasher. Beside them, the clock in the kitchen rang thirteen hundred hours. It was an analog, how interesting. Then, something struck.

“What year is it?”

Lucas was puzzled at the question but answered anyway. Mark let out a sigh of relief.

“Why did you ask?” Lucas tilted his head. He really was starting to look more and more like a puppy. 

“Well, vortexes can transport you through space at a much faster speed, but if something goes wrong, you could always end up in another time,” Mark explained, drawing mindless patterns on the table, hiding his blush. “I just thought, with the furniture and everything–”

“That you ended up time-traveling to the past?” Lucas finished, laughing. “Yeah, no, I get that. My grandma really liked to collect artifacts, so the house is just stocked with all this stuff from like, a century ago.”

 _Grandma_? Mark wanted to ask Lucas about his family, or the lack of his family it seemed, but decided it was too personal. Lucas seemed to have noticed the curiosity showing on Mark’s face, however.

“My family used to live here, but now it’s just me.” He paused, leaving it at there.

Lucas looked past Mark, studying another one of the paintings on the wall. It was next to the cupboard and was a large one of the sea. The brush strokes were visible, and the colors so remarkably vivid that it could give simulators a run for their money. Mark had never seen a sea in real life before. He wondered if there was a sea around here, and asked Lucas. 

“The sea?” Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“There used to be a sea here in Neo City, but when the drought hit the water dried up like I’ve never seen. I mean, has anyone ever seen an ocean vanish? But now, now all there’s left is sand and wind.” His hair fell over his eyes endearingly as the corners of his mouth pulled down. “And duststorms. God, those are the worst.”

“Neo City?” Mark wondered aloud. “Where are we, exactly?”

Lucas’s eyes widened, “oh, oh! I forgot you’re not from around here, sorry– Neo City is a Terran colony, on Jupiter’s moon Europa. How far is that from your home, exactly…?”

Mark’s heart sank. A Terran colony? That would mean that he was galaxies away from home. Home. The word sounded nostalgic on its own. Oh, how he wanted to go back already. He had only been here for not even a day (his conscience, at least) and he wanted to go back to the Academy, see his friends, sleep in that stupid bunk, even eat that terrible food.

“That’s _thousands_ of light-years away from Solmiir,” Mark bit his lip. “We’re in Xion, I don’t know what galaxy that is here, but it’s too far. I don’t think I could get back.”

“Unless we have a vortex,” Lucas quipped, but at the way Mark paled he quickly dismissed it. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot. Right, no vortexes.” And then, hopeful, he added, “I’m sure we’ll think of something to get you home.”

Another pause, thinking. It was still bright outside, though the sunlight streaming through the windows had turned into an orange, deep and lovely as it stretched across the walls of the house in warm streaks. Yet, Mark felt dead tired already, a yawn erupting from his lips.

Lucas looked at him, “you should go back to bed. You still haven’t fully recovered yet.”

Mark would’ve retorted for Lucas to stop babying him if he hadn’t felt so exhausted. He really did feel worn out, shoulders slumped as he stood up.

“You don’t need me to carry you, do you?” Lucas teased, demeanor switching all of a sudden. Mark almost tripped at the sight of the other boy’s over-the-top wink.

“N-no! I’m fine,” he spluttered. “Jeez, do I look like a _child_ to you– don’t you say it!”

Lucas clamped his mouth shut, a shit-eating grin threatening to take over his face. "I wasn't, I wasn't! You look more like... a princess."

The shorter sent him a look.

Okay, okay!" Lucas laughed, shooing him upstairs, "no more pet names." 

Mark stopped before he reached the staircase, turning. Lucas's mouth twitch expectantly, but didn't say anything.

“But really though, thank you for saving me… And taking care of me. And everything else really. You didn’t have to, but you did.” Mark avoided Lucas’s gaze, cheeks pinking as he fiddled with his fingers. “I don’t know how else to thank you. I mean, how do you thank someone for saving a life?” 

At that, Lucas tapped his chin, eyes glinting. “As a damsel in distress, you could always return the favor to”– to which he not-so-discreetly pointed to himself– “your knight in shining armor over here by–” and puckered his lips–

Mark rolled his eyes, “nevermind. I think a ‘thank you’ was enough.”

“Wait, wait!” Lucas pouted as Mark turned away and then broke out into a wide smile, which began to soften.

“Sorry, sorry, just joking…! Hey, in all seriousness”– Mark didn’t know what constituted as “seriousness” for someone like Lucas– “you don’t need to thank me, Mark. I should be thanking _you_ , actually– it sounds weird, but it’s the first time I’ve had some company in a while… So yeah, no need to give me your firstborn or anything like that.”

Mark wanted to ask what Lucas meant exactly, but his exhaustion dismissed it. He figured it would all be sorted out tomorrow, anyway.

Tomorrow. Would he spend tomorrow here as well? Could he even? Mark had reached his room, shuffling to his bed, sluggish. Downstairs, he could hear music beginning to play through the home system in the living room, quiet and calm. Lucas, too, was humming the melancholic melody. Upon hearing it, something in Mark’s chest moved, twisted, panged. The song was so sweet-sounding, beautiful, but miserable, washing sadness upon shores. How ethereal a sound, yet so sad? He had never heard anything like that.

As he shut the door, the curtains, and let himself be overcome with the shadows of the sunset, Mark began to drift off into a dream.

 

**PART III. ANCHOR**

They couldn’t go out the next two days, because of the dust storm, which had erupted the night before. Even though he couldn’t go outside (Lucas insisted it was too dangerous for both of them, especially with the condition Mark was in), the wind was _loud_ , roaring so harshly against the house that once in a while the floorboards would groan and the silverware in the kitchen would clink against one another by themselves.

Those two days were somewhat quiet, filled with long naps (on Mark’s part, who was still weak) and quick meals. Lucas was ever happy-go-lucky, never running out of things to say. He was easy-going, hilarious, and fun to bicker with. Lucas was incredibly friendly for someone who seemed to have lived in solitude, actually. They got along comfortably but didn’t talk as much as Mark would’ve liked, with Lucas fussing over him every hour over his wounds.

Lucas promised Mark that they’d go out to see his carjet first thing in the morning as soon as the storm was over. So they did. 

The sun had barely risen yet, the dark sky stretching across the horizon as they stepped out the house, Lucas making sure Mark had put his mask on right, in case the weather got any windier.

It was the first time he got to see the house from the outside: it had a porch, made of sleek granite painted with an oak pattern; standing three stories tall, with a balcony extending from Lucas’s room, and on top of its attic erected a flag of Earth; it had been painted a sweet honeyed yellow, but time and storms had eroded away the brightness of it. 

The crash site was closer than he thought, no more than a twenty-minute walk. He probably could’ve seen it from his room window, if he squinted hard enough. 

(Lucas, to his surprise, didn’t have any vehicles, much less a carjet; in fact, all he owned was a hoverbike that his father gave him on his thirteenth birthday— and it only worked half the time.)

Neo City was completely the opposite of what its name suggested. It was desolate and ghostly, the only sound being the winds, which sadly blew the violet sand. The sand fascinated Mark, who grew up only seeing snow his entire life. Solmiir was always white, frosted with ice and stillness, skies always ugly grey. But sand was different from snow, and it didn’t melt— the lilac of it soft and trickled through his fingers smooth as velvet. Lucas said it was the soil that made Terrans so attracted to Neo City in the first place. Mark tried to imagine the sea in front of him as they trekked through the empty desert.

In the distance, the other moons began to glow as sunlight entered the planet. He could see remains of the city far away, demolished skyscrapers and multitudes of building foundations, bare and crumbling away with every gust of wind.

“Are you the only one that lives here, or something?” He joked behind Lucas, who was leading the way. The taller slowed into a halt. Mark’s jaw dropped.

“No way! Wait, how?” Is that what Lucas meant when he said Mark was his only company in a while? And how long was “a while”?

“We’re here,” Lucas effectively dodged his question as the carjet came in sight. Mark completely diverted his attention to where Lucas was pointing and sprinted. Upon seeing it, he fell to his knees in despair.

Lucas, catching up, stopped and let out a low whistle, “shit.”

Shit indeed. It was terrible: the jet had landed on its side, one of its wings stuck in the sand and its engine had busted pretty badly. Half of it had been crushed, looking as if a force had pressed down on it and then decompressed the metal. And the other half was hard to spot, for it was fixed under the compact sand. There was virtually no way to fix it, and both of them knew it as soon as they saw it.

Still, Mark insisted. “I mean, there has to be a way to get it out of the sand—” 

Lucas worried his bottom lip, “no manpower could possibly bring your jet out of _that_.”

“Unless…!” 

“Unless?” Lucas pressed, raising a brow.

Mark faced towards the direction of the abandoned buildings in the distance, and when Lucas followed his gaze, his face darkened.

“No way,” Lucas frowned, crossing his arms. “It’s too dangerous for the both of us, and I doubt you’ll find any operating machinery.”

Mark pouted, “we could try. You said you’d do anything to help me get back!”

(This wasn’t exactly true, but it worked. Lucas backed down with an exhale.)

“Not today.” Lucas conceded, and Mark began to circle the rest of his carjet with a little more bounce in his step. 

“Well, at least it’s not on fire anymore,” Lucas quipped as Mark began struggled to prop open the door, which its glass had been broken into shards. As he squeezed inside the lopsided ship and kicked some debris here and there, he noticed the damage inside wasn’t as bad as they thought.

In fact, the control panel was pretty much intact, and most of the wires had not frayed too badly. The school-issued jets were pretty outdated; Mark was surprised to see it in better shape than he’d assumed.

“I don’t think there’s any quick way we can fix the engine,” Mark bent down to get a better look, one palm flat against the bottom of the panel. “But I think we can do something with the system, and hopefully, contact someone through it for help. What do you think?”

There was no response. Mark turned to see Lucas, who was outside the carjet, staring outward with a glazed look in his eye, for some reason distracted. 

“Lucas?”

The brown-haired boy snapped out of his trance, ears turning red, “huh?”

“I asked, what do you think of my idea?”

“Sounds great, princess,” Lucas managed, voice a little faint. Then, regaining hold of things, he lugged his toolbox inside the carjet: “Let’s see what we need to fix, yeah?”

“We’re not using that,” Mark looked at the toolbox with distaste. It was a large bulk of a box full of various redundant gadgets, clunky and rusty, in which Lucas persisted he needed to bring. In Mark’s honest opinion, they were more useful as decorations than tools.

Something akin to a whine surfaced from Lucas, “what? why not?”

He dragged out the last word, pulling his lips into a pout. Mark, unfortunately, was still not immune to this idiosyncratic skill Lucas seemed to possess. After being unable to withhold Lucas’s stare, he let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine. Hand it over.”

The puppy-like boy whooped in the air, laughing louder than the winds of Europa. Mark would never tell him this, but it was hard to hide his smile at the other boy, whose very essence was larger than the sun that rose over the moons of Jupiter that morning.

 

**PART IV. TENDENCY**

Time didn’t feel the same in Neo City. Days merged into weeks, but Mark never felt the drag of time— maybe it was because the hours were always filled with something (with Lucas, the voice in the back of his head chimed).

It became routine, the life in Neo City coming to Mark so easily now that he didn’t have to think about it anymore. It was almost as mindless as breathing, with the moment Mark opened his eyes every morning, the sight of purple sands becoming familiar.

And Lucas— as the days passed, they grew closer. Living with Lucas, spending time with him, there was natural comfort Mark found in that. It was almost as if they’ve been living together their whole lives— the way the old leather couch fit the two of them just right, the way they’d bump into one another in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, and Lucas, with his eyes twinkling, _tea or coffee_?

Of course, every day Mark still thought about going back home, about his friends and family in Solmiir, probably worried about him to death, about flying in space again. The thought was always prodding at him, resurfacing in the dead of night when he couldn’t sleep. But the more he spent in Neo City, the thought of leaving also became harder to accept.

It was midday when the sun was high and beating its rays upon Europa. The sands at this time turned a wonderful sangria, a sheet of velvet stretching into the horizon. At this time they’d be in the greenhouse— technically, it was a large dome that houses all the Terran plants, trees, all sorts of vegetation; it was like a small forest of organisms.

The temperature in the greenhouse was always warm, enough that when they finished up they always finished up in sweat. Mark checked the last of crops on one end, and then called Lucas, who was punching instructions into the system’s pad.

“Hm?” Lucas from the back was oddly captivating, and Mark found himself staring at the former’s broad shoulders. 

“Why do we need to check the greenhouse every day if the system already does it for us?” Mark couldn’t help but sound a little childish, feigning hurt: “Are you just trying to get me out of the house?” 

Lucas laughed, turning around, “well, I can’t just have you lazing around all day in bed pretending you’re still injured, can I? I mean, c’mon– did you really think you could get past me? In case you forgot, _I’m_ the one that nursed you back to health.”

Mark gasped exaggeratedly, almost stepping on a shrubbery. “I did _not_!”

“Did to~” Lucas dragged out with a smirk, making his way towards him. “You liked me taking care of you, admit it!”

“Did not,” the Solmiiran insisted. 

Lucas was close enough now Mark could see the light sheen of sweat that covered him. He gulped seeing the other’s Adam’s apple bob. It really was getting hot in the greenhouse.

Another one of his laughs, ringing throughout the dome. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

They were chest to chest, and Mark had to raise his head for them to meet eyes. Lucas winked. 

“You, out of all people, should not be saying that,” Mark scoffed. He could feel Lucas’s breath, warm on his cheek. If his face was red, he blamed it on the system’s thermostat.

They had locked gazes, the air still.

Then, unexpectedly, Lucas leaned in— and swiftly flicked Mark on the forehead.

“Ow!”

Lucas doubled over, clenching his stomach in laughter. “You should’ve seen your face— hey!”

Mark didn’t hesitate to pounce on him. It was a playful scuffle, clumsy and foolish, where there were no rules but shoving, pushing, gasps and cut-off laughter, all in between and happening at once. They ended up in a sort of deadlock, them having caught each other’s hands with an unyielding grasp, pushing in a battle of dominance between their outstretched arms: push, pull, compress, decompress.

“Having trouble, princess?” Lucas lilted as Mark struggled against him.

“Worry about yourself,” the answer came through his gritted teeth.

And Lucas, with a nonchalant stance and a clever glint in his eye, suddenly let go of all his strength, and they both topped onto the ground with a _thump._

Mark fell on top of Lucas, his hands pinning them down involuntarily, their faces almost an inch apart until the Solmiiran realized the position they were in. Lucas had not let go of his hands, still sporting a strong grip, and all the blood rushed up Mark’s face.

He was ruthless, “enjoying yourself, princess?”

“S-shut up,” Mark stuttered.

Almost tripping back onto Lucas, he scrambled up into a coughing fit. They were covered in dirt, looking as if they had just exited a battlefield, hair disarray and mud-streaked cheeks. Upon seeing each other, they both cracked up until tears brimmed at the corners of their eyes.

“God,” Lucas wheezed, “your _hair_!”

Mark dusted off his head, giggling, “hey, you shouldn’t be talking!”

They left for the house in good spirits, each carrying a bucket of vegetables as they went back. The giddy feeling did not fray in Mark’s heart, beating with vigor and glee. And outside, the sands began to shift, beckoning for them to come back home.

 

**PART V. SPIEL**

Actually, given its size, it used to be a community greenhouse. But Lucas’s house was the only one left in a dying town of scattered homes, all empty of life.

Mark, at some point, had finally mustered up the courage to ask as to why it seemed Lucas was the only human being left on Europa. Scratch that— he _was_ the only human being on Europa. Mark didn’t know why it took him so long to choke out the words, but whenever he hinted at it Lucas always bore _that_ expression: so enigmatic and moderately hurt and strangely homesick and most of all, lonely. A vast loneliness inscrutable to him, one that made him void.

They had been sorting his grandma’s artifacts when Mark asked, softly that you could almost miss it: “Why are you the only one left here?”

It wasn’t unexpected, the question. Lucas had told him a little about his family before, and as far as Mark was concerned, they were happy and healthy living back on Terra.

He set down the artifact in his hand on a nearby desk; it was a peculiar, bulky headset with itchy, elastic straps, and when Mark peeked inside it, it displayed a poor-quality image of the Hyujki Islands.

“Mom, dad, and my sister came here before I was born, with Grandma,” Lucas focused on his fingers, fiddling with them. His legs somehow looked longer when he leaned against the table, if that was possible. “It was when Neo City was at its peak— at first Earth used the moon for resources, but once people realized the scenery here, it became the perfect getaway vacation resort.

“It was big business: violet beaches, tropical marshes, and marble high-rise hotels,” he turned his head towards the window. The late sun cast a golden glow upon him, almost like a halo.

“But when I was born, there was a drought. Heatwave, actually. Every day, more water would just vanish. The ocean turned into a lake, then into a pond, a puddle— it was unheard of. No one could’ve ever predicted it.

“Suddenly, all the business were failing, stock prices were hard hit. People began catching the next flight home, packing all their things…”

“But you didn’t?” Mark pressed.

Lucas shook his head, dust floating in circles. “No. We stayed for a while, but it was hard, with everything shut down. When my sister got into university back on Earth my parents moved with her. I was fourteen then, and it was just me and my grandma.”

“They didn’t take you back home?” Mark asked incredulously, fury budding in his throat.

“It’s not like that,” Lucas pushed back his hair, eyes glazing over with something. “Grandma was really old then, too weak to go back. Not that she wanted to go back, anyway. All her artifacts were here, and it cost a great deal transferring them inter-planet.

“And me? I stayed to take care of her. Soon, we were the only ones left on the entire moon… 

“She passed away a few years ago,” and he paused, lips twitching down at the thought of it. He must have really loved her, Mark thought. Before Mark could say something, Lucas continued: “I mean, she was at the end of her life already. I just miss her, you know?”

Mark nodded, quiet.

“My parents still call me up sometimes, telling me to go back home, but I dunno. I’ve been here all my life; _Europa_ is home. I never wanted to leave. This place is all I’ve ever known. But it does get lonely, I guess, without anybody.”

 _You have me now_ , Mark wanted to say. Yet for some reason, he never did. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell Lucas, but couldn’t.

 

**PART VI. ZENITH**

If the mornings were spent in the greenhouse, then the afternoons were spent busy in the carjet, hours upon hours trying to _get that damn thing to work_. They had actually made decent progress over the weeks, considering that they didn’t have the most efficient tools, and there were only two of them.

Actually, it was just Mark. Lucas was absolutely clueless when it came to machinery, so the most he could do was hand Mark tools when the latter told him so and sat looking like a lost puppy when Mark didn’t. It was sort of endearing, but if Mark said that aloud (which he did), Lucas would cross his arms like a child and assert that, in fact, he was _not_ cute, but tall, dark, and handsome thank you very much—

“Suit yourself,” Mark shrugged from under the panel. He had propped open the main router, tapping around the system codes. “See if I ever compliment you again.”

Lucas recovered, “no, no! It’s fine if you call me cute!”

Mark’s laugh rang throughout the tiny space, and a deep pink bloomed across Lucas’s face. Thankfully, the Solmiiran didn’t see it.

They fell silent within the disquiet of the wind. It was an eerie sound today, its hushed roaring failing to lift up the sand. Lucas took this as a relatively good sign.

“Oh, wire’s loose,” Mark’s voice slightly muffled. “Can you hand me the— oh, thanks.”

Lucas stuck his head under the control panel to see Mark concentrating on whatever it was he was doing. He didn’t get wires; they were pretty much ancient knowledge to him.

Lucas made himself comfortable, laying down with Mark as he watched the smaller absentmindedly. It was oddly calming, seeing how quick his hands worked, fingers dancing between wires. 

“Hey,” he perked up, upon seeing the last wire put into place, where a faint glow appeared. “I think you got it—”

Instantly, the system came to life. The glow spread throughout the carjet, painting the control room with brightness. Artificial light shone upon their faces, painting them a neon blue. A click and whir sounded, and then, with a start, the room began to hum.

“ _System Status: On_ …”

“Holy shit,” Lucas breathed, looking over to Mark. His hands were frozen in place, hovering in the air. Lucas reached over to shut the hatch, observing the Solmiiran, whose jaw had dropped in utter disbelief.

“ _Qres_ ,” Mark said shakily. “It’s working.”

They got out from under the panel, observing at the controls in a state of awe and wonder. The holoscreens began to show, showing calculations and data.

“I can’t believe it,” Mark’s voice cracked, “we did it.”

He looked up at Lucas, who had been staring at him with an unreadable gaze. “No,” the taller said, voice incredibly tender. “You did.”

Mark burst into tears, and Lucas caught him, arms enveloping his quivering body. The smaller buried his face into Lucas’s shoulder, crying of joy. He didn’t know how long they stayed there, in each other’s hold, but he didn’t care. 

“Thank you,” Mark mumbled, hiccuping between tears, “for everything.”

“There really isn’t anything to thank me for,” Lucas said, and he meant it. Before he could open his mouth to add on, the system cut him off. 

“ _Incoming Call_ …” It chimed, holoscreens flashing yellow with Mark’s school crest. It read _Commander Seo_.

“Oh!” Mark exclaimed, pulling away from Lucas. He tapped on the green button, and a smile broadened at the sound of his commander’s voice. 

“ _Mark! Mark! Is that you?_ ”

“Yes, Commander!”

“ _Oh,_ mih Qres _!_ ” On the other side of the line, they heard people shuffling and crying and other voices beginning to rise. He could even hear his roommate and best friend, Donghyuck, call out his name in relief, much to his surprise. _Tzal,_ how long was he in their instructor’s office?

“ _Where are you? Send your coordinates–_ ” More commotion and a radio fuzz interfering. There were all sorts of sounds, hushing, and it made Mark swell with both warmth and pain. How many people had he made suffer all this time? “ _Are you safe?_ ” 

“I’m safe, yes,” Mark eagerly answered, striking numbers on the main pad. “And I’m sending my coordinates right now.” 

“ _We’ll be sending a rescue ship immediately.”_ A pause, more radio noise. _“–oh, that’s far. It might take a few days, so stay where you are…”_

And then, they heard people being hustled out, the sound of doors sliding shut and opening and closing. There was nothing heard for a while until Commander Seo coughed.

“ _And the carjet?_ ”

Lucas stifled a laugh as Mark nervously answered, “I’m afraid it won’t be worth bringing back, sir.” 

“ _I figured_ ,” the man said gruffly. “ _Someone saved you, didn’t they?_ ” 

Mark was shocked. “How did you know?”

“ _Mark_ ,” Commander Seo sighed. “ _A kid like you could never survive alone._ ” 

Lucas burst out into a fit of laughter at Mark’s priceless expression. 

Then, his commander’s voice became firm, scolding: “ _You know, you’re very lucky to be alive right now._ ”

Mark glanced over to Lucas, whose shoulders were still shaking in hysterics. And softly, to himself: “yeah, I am.” 

The remaining of the day was restless after the call (and after sending a voice message to his family, friends, and one more confirmation with Commander Seo on his location)– Mark was impeccably giddy, while Lucas, on the other hand, became unusually tame, but an aura of anxiety seemed to cloud him. It was like they had switched personalities. Even dinner was a quick and quiet procession, both of them failing to keep up a conversation for too long, almost as if eating faster would somehow hurry that day. 

Night drew upon them without much exhaustion, though things were still overwhelming. They had slept in the same bed, ever since one particular night when Mark’s nightmares woke him up in cold sweat. All he remembered was the darkness and the smell of death, but Lucas at some point had come into his room, hovering over him in worry. They didn’t talk about the incident since, but there had been an unspoken agreement that Mark couldn’t sleep alone.

It wasn’t that terrible, sharing a bed, though Lucas was a heavy cuddler and blanket-hogger in sleep (Mark was sort of used to it, due to his roommate’s clingy tendencies). So Mark knew something was off when he awoke in the middle of the night with all the blankets and an empty spot beside him.

“Lucas?” He whispered, turning to his side. There was air coming in, but not from the vent. Instead, from the mattress, Mark could see the large windows propped open and Lucas’s silhouette leaning on the balcony railing.

 _What the hell_ , he thought, blinking through his sleepiness. He sat up and swung his legs over the bed, careful not to make a noise. But even as he treaded softly towards Lucas, the Terran was unaware of the other’s presence, deep in thought.

“Lucas?” He called, stepping onto the balcony. “What’s wrong?” 

The moonlight fell upon them like a smoky curtain, the sands becoming a sea of fog. There was a slight breeze, warmer than most nights. And the wind muffled in the distance, far away.

There wasn’t an answer, for a long while. Through it, Mark waited, studying Lucas’s profile, dimly illuminated.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Words said lowly, harsh in their simplicity. Lucas still refused to at him directly, staring out into the sky, where the largest three moons loomed.

Mark swallowed, “what do you mean? You’re not coming with me?”

The Terran finally fixed his gaze on him, lips parted in confusion. “What?” 

Mark turned away, suddenly embarrassed. _Tzal_ , he was an idiot! Why’d he think Lucas was actually going to go back with him? He had been blinded, blinded by what they shared over the past few weeks. Why did he think Lucas actually felt the same way?

“Sorry, I– I’d assumed you would come back with me. I was being… ” _Selfish,_ Mark couldn’t finish. He was a fool.

They fell silent again. Could the wind be any more noiseless? Stars became dull as the seconds ticked, black and purples and greys, all blurring his vision.

“I can’t,” Lucas said, and Mark’s heart sunk. “You know I can’t just leave.”

 _Why not_?, Mark wanted to challenge, but he already knew what Lucas would say.

“You could bring all of it,” he clamored. “The artifacts, I mean. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way.” 

But Lucas shook his head, “where would I even go in Solmiir, anyway?”

“You could stay at the school, in my room!” He salvaged, turning his whole body to face the Terran. “I’ll kick Donghyuck out. Have Renjun deal with him.”

Lucas gave a breathless chuckle.

“And my friends– they’d love you! Or well, they’d stop making fun of me for being the oldest, with you there.” 

“Mark, I don’t even know how to fly.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Mark said, almost pleading. “Maybe I’m being selfish, but I want to be. I want you.” 

Then he looked at him– really did, his dark eyes catching the light of the galaxies and taking Mark’s breath away. _Mih Qres_ , had he ever seen eyes like that? Ones that held all the worlds he ever wanted to explore, all right in front of him? All his life he’d train as a pilot so he could explore the universe, but he had already found it, all this time.

“Maybe I’m selfish, too,” Lucas said, “for wanting you to stay.”

A sudden burst of fervor in his chest, spreading with a tenderness Mark had never felt so vividly before. He stepped towards the taller, close but not close enough. Something flickered in him, desire flourishing. He was going to do it this time. No more regrets, no more masks.

“Hey,” he said under his breath, hands quivering as he reached for Lucas, “don’t flick me this time, yeah?”

It was his first kiss. Lucas was his first kiss, and Lucas was also a lot of other firsts. At first, they almost knocked foreheads, and the Terran let out a laugh– his real, infuriatingly beautiful laugh. Mark leaned in again, entranced with the melody. They closed their eyes, yet for the moment, Mark could see it all. The flowers of heat blossoming in the bottom of his stomach, begging _more, more, more_ – in one another's embrace, in their own world.

They’d figure things out tomorrow, Mark thought, as he caressed Lucas’s cheekbones, entwined in his arms. There was always time for them, for each other. It didn’t matter where they went, it didn’t matter where they stayed; they’d go as much to the opposite ends of the universe from each other, but they’d always circle back to the very edge.

 

— _The End._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! it was sort of rushed so if you have any questions/want more context feel free to comment! i'd be delighted to answer
> 
> diction:  
> mih qres/tzal = oh my god/jesus christ  
> carjet = space jet  
> solmiir = mark’s home planet  
> jexes, hyujki islands = other planets  
> terra = planet earth (usually referred by aliens)


End file.
